


A Warm Belly

by gardengarcons



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Party, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fireworks, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fourth of July, Friendship, Kid Bucky Barnes, Lost Bucky Barnes, M/M, Missing Persons, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other: See Story Notes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slice of Life, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardengarcons/pseuds/gardengarcons
Summary: Of all the things Steve was expecting for his birthday, a cold pup of a boy stuffing himself under his shirt seeking warmth was definitely not one of them.





	A Warm Belly

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a bit of a haste at midnight because a.) Cap's bday b.) I've been itching to make a first post! Will definitely update this with cleaned-up version asap! 
> 
> Please take note of the following warnings before reading: The themes I briefly touch upon at the beginning of the story include domestic issues that are related to divorces and child custody battles, as well as a missing child wandering alone and being among strangers (as tagged.) There is no violence nor do I put said child in super awful or dangerous circumstances (to the absolute best of my ability) and there IS a happy ending, but please be aware of these themes that can potentially be triggering, or that might not sit well for some readers!

It was twilight and only a few fireworks were being set off in the distance for those impatient residents who couldn’t wait until darkness. Bucky was looking out of his window, not really able to see the pretty lights against the multi-colored sunset. Still, the 7 year old was excited because it was Fourth of July and that meant his mother’s super special flag-themed Cherries Jubilee and a flurry of man-made stars exploding and illuminating the night sky. 

Hopping off his window-side bed, the excitable child finished tying his shoes and moved on to his closet to look for a warmer layer of clothing. 

_ It might be summer about these nights get terribly cold so don’t forget your parka, okay, love?  _ His mother had warned him earlier that day while she slipped his child ID tag into the inner pocket.  _ Just in case _ . She said as an afterthought, though more-so to herself. They were planning to go spend their evening at the community park, joining her work friends for a barbeque, but there were always stories of children being scared from the loud bangs and running off.

  
Little hands carded through the hung clothing in his miniature closet, leaning up on his tiptoes with a frown on his face because he couldn’t find said article of clothing. He pushed his lips to the side, puffing his cheeks in frustration.    


“Mama?” he asked at the doorway of her empty room. Nope, not there. “Mamaaaa,” he sang-song into the empty bathroom until - duh, dumbdumb - he finally figured she was probably finishing up the treats she was preparing in the kitch for the barbeque.

“Mama, have you seen my... parka…?” His words slowed once he heard it, once he smelled  _ him _ . A little defensive growl hummed at the back of his throat - obviously, he was no match for the much larger and older man who was yelling at his mother. Something about child custardy and lawyers? Bucky still didn’t really get those big adult words but he didn’t care. 

“You leave her alone!” the young boy charged with flailing arms only to be pushed back harshly, landing on the ground on his bottom. He huffed out heavy breaths, biting back the tears threatening to spill.

“Now you’ve done it, George,” his mother sighed out, sounding tired and worn out from the charged conversation her ex-husband insisted on having. She reached her an arm out towards her boy. “James, sweetheart, come here.”   
  
“No! You’ve got to stop babying him like that, Winnie, I swear, if we were back home-.”   
  
“But we’re  _ not _ , goddamit!” She bit back, turning her attention to her former mate. And just like that, they were yelling again. Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He felt so helpless and powerless whenever his father dropped in randomly to threaten his mother about keeping him. Bucky missed his family, couldn’t remember when and why things got like this but all he knew is that he didn’t like it, the screaming and fighting and hurting. So he scrambled to his feet, running out the yard towards his treehouse where he’d usually spend his time until things quieted. Except he forgot that they were remodeling it ever since too much water from a storm that swept by last week got in and rotted the floorboards, the ladder removed to avoid accidents. He wiped at the fresh tears running down his face hiccupping a little. 

The yelling could still be heard from out in the yard where Bucky stood so he rushed out into the street. Maybe he could go to his best friend Tasha’s house and wait out there, her family was in charge of bringing lemonade. He started heading down the familiar street when he heard it. A group of boys were sniggering to themselves in the middle of the street not too far from him, one holding a large looking rocket while the other clicked away at one of those extended-reach lighters. They ran back, cheering as a string of whistles and cries erupted into the sky above them all. It was loud.  _ Too _ loud. Much louder than anything Bucky has ever heard in his short life and it terrified him. (He always watched the fireworks from a safe distance, never this close.) 

Bucky covered his ears, the smoke stinging his eyes, sensitive nose filling with burnt chemicals and he began to sob, running in the direction opposite from the horrible boys but there were more like them along the block. The little boy lost track of the streets, wanting to go back home, to be in his warm bed away from all of this. Instead he was out in the cold, exposed and frightened. 

 

 

Bucky was shivering, hugging himself while walking slowly down a quieter street. Little hiccups escaped him as he looked around: he was in the wealthier looking neighborhood that wasn’t too far from his home but it was still unfamiliar. He heard music from one of the houses ahead of him, a party it seemed. A party with kids! Or, well, older kids. Maybe he could ask them for help, and a snack. And probably a blanket. He wandered into the yard, a few of the older kids smelling funny like his father when he was yelling at his mom. Nope, definitely not asking them. 

He made his way to the backyard which was emptier. Well, for the most part. There was one older boy sitting And  _ oh _ . From where he stood by the bushes, Bucky could feel the warmth emanating from him. As he stepped closer, he took notice of the dirty blonde hair and long pretty lashes.

He was so so very cold and shaken up still, and the older boy looked nice. He smelled different, warmer than the others, friendly but  _ especially _ warm. Bucky couldn’t help it and, as if it were the most normal thing to do (it was with him and his mama, anyway), he crawled onto the boys lap, lifting his shirt and stuffing himself underneath it, cooing quietly to himself as the warmth enveloped him, his small frame curling up against the larger body. Sniffles dying out, Bucky rested his head against the soft, toned skin of the older boy’s belly and drifted to sleep. 

 

\--

_ Earlier. _

 

The party was in full swing and Steve was already nursing a buzz by 7:00pm, the sun not quite completely set. His parents went off to spend the evening with his grandparents near their condominium in Brooklyn, which meant his friends took it upon themselves to make sure he got the trashing of a lifetime for his 16th birthday. 

Steve wasn’t sure how Sam managed to convince his parents to leave them to their devices in the Rogers’ family vacation home in upstate New York, but he wasn’t one to complain. 

“What did I tell you, baby? In the  _ bag. _ I got you, man.” Sam wore the smuggest most satisfied face while handing Steve another plastic cup filled with god knows what, slapping his bestfriends back heftily. Same was a beta but he exuded all the confidence and cockiness one would expect from an alpha. He was also Steve’s self-proclaimed wingman for every and all scenarios in life and there was no way he would let this particular one be any less spectacular than the rest.

“Yea, yea, I know,” Steve smiled, crystal blue eyes glinting up at his best friend while a veiny hand pushed back his short blonde tufts of hair as he turned his gaze down to inspect the contents of the drink.

“I think I’m gonna slow down though, don’t wanna be out before the fireworks.” Steve caught a whiff of his drink and scrunched his nose, taking a cautious sip and already trying to think of ways to discreetly rid himself of it so as not to offend his friend.   
  
“You better not! Bruce and Tony only have  _ one _ of those home-made monster Roman Candles they concocted in the chem lab. They’ve been working on that for months.”   
  
“Yup, wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“I can think of another little thing you don’t wanna miss.” Sam added with a grin, raising his own drink to his mouth while he looked pointedly behind Steve. The blonde teen turned his head only to be immediately greeted by a girl his age with long blonde locks and a friendly but suggestive smile. Steve mentally groaned.

“Hey, birthday boy.” The young girl donning a short skit and loose halter practically purred at him.

  
“Oh, Sharon, hey,” Steve didn’t mean to sound so dead-pan, really, except he had been trying to fend off his classmate for weeks and… okay maybe a tiny part of him did want her to take some kind of hint. Sharon was an omega with a rep for having a particular taste for certain alphas that were in the spotlight, and she never gave up until she got what she wanted. Steve, for whatever reason, had met her criterias and, although she was very pretty, Steve was the type to want to know someone first and while he wasn’t one to judge, he noticed Sharon most definitely wasn’t into that prospect.  _ Why _ Sam thought Steve needed to get laid despite explaining all this to him bothered Steve to no end.

“Pretty sweet party you’ve got going.” She leaned in, inhaling his scent in a not-so-subtle way and sighing with a blissful expression on her features.   
  
“Yea definitely, couldn’t have done it without Sam though, he’s the mastermind behind all this, right Sam?” Steve looked back only to find his best friend missing - the beta was already making his way into the crowd of dancing bodies, popping his head up to give Steve a thumbs up before disappearing into the mass. Great.

  
Sharon gave an airy giggle, noticing Steve’s helpless expression.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite. Unless ... you’re into that?” She bit her lower lip, a grin slowly spreading, head lowering so her hair could cascade down half of her face.   


“Uh...right. So I think I’m just gonna. I’m gonna go outside and get some fresh air...?” He offered lamely.

Sharon looked at him with an odd expression when he ended his answer with what sounded like a question. Steve just smiled and shrugged as he stepped back and turned, the smile dropping and a relieved breath pushing past his lips, eyes widening. After greeting a few of the attendees, the teen pushed past the kitchen doors that led him to his backyard. 

Steve dumped his drink into one of the potted plants out on the back-porch balcony. He was having fun, yea, but he wasn’t much of the party type. Wasn’t into the drinking-until-he-puked thing, nor into the whole random hook ups. Maybe he was old-fashioned but he wanted to save himself for his mate, whoever it was, and he definitely wanted to be sober for it. Especially since he wasn’t always like he currently was. 

Nobody believed Steve would be an alpha, having been gangly and small for his age for the majority of his life, an easy target for larger less pleasant kids, all the way up until he sprouted when he was around fourteen. He fleshed out pretty well, too, which was also new and odd to him. Though it wasn’t unheard of, he’d read stories about runts who were smaller than him and sickly who had turned out like normal with the proper nurturing and growth-programs the hospitals were test-running. Still, it kind of freaked him out. Nobody batted an eye at him before and now he was receiving all kinds of attention which, yes, some would say was some kind blessing (albeit a twisted one, for him anyway) but it was still odd for him. At least before, he could tell if someone took interest in him for  _ him _ rather than his appearance. Part of him wished his birthday was more lowkey...

With a sigh he made his way onto one of the canopied swing benches, plopping down. There was a cool breeze about him but he still felt overly warm from being surrounded by so many bodies. That and he was wearing too many layers. Unzipping his bomber jacket, Steve slouched into the cushions of the bench and leaned his head back, eyes fluttering to a close. Maybe if he took a quick nap he would sober up enough to part-take in the activities that awaited later in the night. There was no rush, he thought fleetingly as he drifted, and it was still pretty early.

In his slumber, his dreams were starting to take an interesting turn. It was something like the movie Aliens except instead of slimy aliens ripping out from his stomach, one of them was rushing to get  _ inside _ it. Which, what the  _ fuck _ ?   
  


Steve’s eyes burst open and shot towards his stomach to look at a very unbecoming bulge stretching from under his shirt. He let out a scream which, okay, puberty was still a thing since it came out cracked. 

“ _ Jesus _ , what the hell is-.” He stood up quickly, maybe a little too quickly since his buzz wasn’t completely gone and he felt the rush of blood to his head a bit too vividly. Mind a little dizzy, he wasn’t sure he could trust it considering what he was witnessing.

There, on the dewy grass, lay a boy curling into himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was still a pup, Steve noted when he took a sniff, no older than 7 or 8. None of that explained  _ why _ the pup was huddled in his shirt. Was this someone’s little brother?

Steve pressed the heel of his palm above his brow, feeling a migraine tease behind his eyeball as he tried to transition from his creepy ass dream to the confusing reality before him.

Once calmed, he set his eyes back at the boy who was suddenly very awake and looking at him with large, glossy, and terrified eyes. His lips were quivering and only now did it register to Steve that the kid was wearing only shorts and a tee. Things made a bit more sense now, Steve thought, taking his jacket off when he noticed the kid scooting back, eyes welling up in his eyes.   
  


“Oh hey no, shhh it’s okay, buddy, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do anything bad. Was just gonna let you borrow this, see?” He crouched down, draping his jacket over the boy’s shoulder. “See? Anyway, are you looking for your brother or sister or something?” The boy shook his head slowly, waiting a moment before bringing in the lapels of the warm jacket closer to his chest, though still staring up cautiously.

  
Steve swallowed, a deep sense of worry overcoming him. Where did this kid come from?

“Are...are you lost?” It was a simple, sensical question but he regretted immediately because it triggered something in the kid. The tears threatening to spill were trailing down dirty cheeks uncontrollably, his small body shaking as loud sobs escaped him. It was painful to hear, to witness. It broke his heart and all Steve wanted to do was scoop the pup into his arms and hold him tight and take all that sorrow and fear away.

Instead of further scaring the boy, however, Steve spoke gently. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s gonna be okay. Let’s go inside, yea? And we can find your parents, sound good?” That seemed to have some effect, the boy nodding through his crying. 

 

  
Steve was considering calling the police but thought against it since there was so much alcohol and recreational stuff, with the majority of the attendees present definitely not of the legal age. His mind was thinking through scenarios and solutions fast. He concluded that he’d wait until all the firework frenzy died down so he could drive the kid home. Once he got him speaking, that is, which seemed like a hard feat considering how resolutely mute the boy decided to be. Made sense, of course, Steve couldn’t imagine the trauma he went through…

Guiding him inside with a hand holding his, Steve did his honest best to avoid as many drunk people as possible to spare the kid. He was just about to go upstairs when he spotted his best friend, pulling him with his free hand by his arm.

“Hey Sam, Imma need you to take care of the party. This kid’s lost and--.” 

“Babysitting, Steve?  _ Really? _ On your  _ birthday? _ ” Sam obviously misheard and was obviously beyond wasted but there wasn’t time to explain. Steve gave him a stern look without further speaking, getting his message across, just before walking up to the second floor. Unlocking his room, he stepped inside with the kid. He closed the room with a relieved sigh, taking note of the boy again who still very much had his guard up while looking up at him. Right. Back to business.

Steve crouched down again. “This is my bedroom, we can hang out here for a bit while we wait for your parents, okay? But before they come, I need you to help me out.” Steve scratched his cheek absently. “Maybe we can start with your name?”   
  
The boy blinked at him, no answer. With a sigh, Steve continued. “Look, buddy, I know you’re scared, but I’m you friend, okay? And I want you back with your parents just as much as you do but I have no idea where you came from so we gotta work like a team. You think you can help me out?”

“S-s-stranger danger.” Which, okay, that was adorable. 

Steve took a deep breathe, not wanting to mess this up. “Good, your parents taught you about that. That’s really good, buddy! But I promise that I only need your name to help find your them, okay? Is that okay?”

There was a small nod, the alertness in the kid’s eyes slipping away in favor of a more vulnerable one. Eyes downcast, he mumbled. “James Barnes.”

“Okay. Okay, cool, that’s really good, James. Do you have a middle name?” Steve asked, pulling out his phone while already typing in the name online in the neighborhood directory. He had access thanks to his dad who was a cop.   
  
Another nod. “It’s Byoo. Byook.” There’s a small frown. “I still can’t say it right, but to make it smaller everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Bucky. That’s a pretty neat nickname.” Steve looks up with an encouraging smile, to which the boy flushes, nodding slowly. 

“My name is Steven, Steven Grant Rogers but everyone just calls me Steve. Not as cool as yours, honestly.” The teen said with a bit of a chuckle. “And, well, I’m sixteen. In fact, I turned sixteen today, can you believe that?”

The little boy raised his brows and asked with a bit of awe. “Your birthday is on the Fourth of July?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “Yea, pretty cool, right?” To be honest, Steve didn’t really think so, he stopped thinking it was cool a while ago but the wonder in the kids eye reminded him of the days when he  _ did _ think it wasn’t so bad. “How about you, Bucky? How old are you? And when’s your birthday?” Steve figured the more information he had, the better chances he had of finding the pup’s family.

Bucky lifted up both hands, one with all his fingers spread out and the other holding up just two digits. “March. March ten.” 

“Aw darn, looks like I missed your birthday by a lot!” Steve said, feigning being upset.

When was the last time he talked like a kid  _ to _ a kid?

Seemed to do the trick, his silly tone making Bucky laughing a little. Steve made notes of the information the boy provided, including his mother and father’s name. There was silence as he focused on searching when he heard a grumble. Looking up, he saw Bucky worrying his lip between his teeth.

“You’re hungry…” to which Bucky nodded.   
  
“Alright. Okay, uhh, alright so can you do me a favor and sit tight? I promise I’ll be really fast and bring you up some food and-...” Steve stopped, brows moving up.  _ Strike two, genius,  _ he berated himself.

Bucky started breathing hard, almost as though hyperventilating, eyes watering again, a crestfallen expression on his features at the idea of being left alone again. A firecracker burst out nearby and up until then, Bucky only flinched at them, but this one was particularly close and the fright returned to his whole being. 

Steve really, really didn’t like the idea of having a kid around the drunk (and probably high) teens downstairs but he really, really hated leaving Bucky alone like this more. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, thinking.

  
  


Steve moved stealthily downstairs, mentally thanking Bruce and Tony for that ridiculous Roman Candle because most of the party moved to the front yard to prepare for it. His arms hoisted underneath the little legs wrapped around him from behind him, the young boy clinging to his neck all the while hiding under Steve’s velvet bomber jacket. 

  
Steve had decided that piggy-backing was probably the best tactic in which he could quickly grab food and drinks and move back up to the room. 

“Is a cheese and ham sandwich okay?” He whispered hastily behind him, smiling a little too brightly at two girls who looked at him like he was some kind of lunatic.

“Yea.” Bucky whispered back. “Please.” He added belatedly, remembering what his mama said when asking for things from people.

Steve gathered the ingredients from the fridge, swiftly making a couple of sandwich before putting everything back. He also grabbed some apple juice and waters, balancing everything in one arm while still clutching his free hand underneath Bucky’s knee to hold him in place.

He was about to take them back to his room when he realized it was way too close to the street so, instead, he made for the guest room that faced the backyard figuring that having a bit more distance from all the noise was better than nothing.

 

 

Steve resumed his search while Bucky seemed to ease up enough, busy munching away at his food, feet swaying side to side and hitting each other when they met in the middle, legs stretched out in front of him from the spot he took on the queen sized bed. He finally found a hit, the name of the parents matching what Bucky informed him. 

He immediately called the number. His father was a cop so he knew people weren’t always who they said so he was cautious about making sure the lady was actually Bucky’s mother. He didn’t have to do much, or more like nothing at all because after just one ring, the first words that greeted him were: “ Bucky? Bucky, angel, is that you?”   


For the second time that night, Steve felt a large painful pang in his chest at the mother tearing up on the other side of the line, expressing her relief and fears and guilt but mostly gratitude to him. It was a couple of minutes before she was well enough to write down his address, assuring him that she would be on her way once the fireworks died down. After hanging up, Steve let out a profound breath that he felt was held in for a very long time.  

“Steve?” the voice of the young boy flitted from where he had already tucked himself underneath the bed sheets. Huh.   
  
“Yea?” the older teen asked, sitting beside the boy and running a hand through the loose brown curls of the pup in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

“Happy Birthday...” he mumbled, a sleepy smile spreading across his features, half-opened eyelids coming to a full close just before he fully dozed off

  
Steve blinkeed, then smiled lopsided, completely taken by the innocent words expressed so sweetly. From a stranger of a pup, to top it off. No, not entirely a stranger.

Of all the things Steve was expecting for his birthday, a cold pup stuffing himself under his shirt seeking warmth was definitely not one of them. But it made for a very interesting twist and an odd and unexpected gift in and of itself. It felt right, helping this kid out instead of being out there with his friends, because he kind of reminded Steve of himself when he was around a similar age when he was much smaller. Those times he went home with angry tears with no one to save him from bullies until he got home to be consoled in his mother’s arms. 

“Be the person you needed when you were younger,” he had read online somewhere and, yea, as cliche as it sounded at first, living it out like this...Well, it certainly made Steve better being here where he could feel genuinely himself, to do something meaningful. 

 

Steve liked it a lot better when he could give, anyway.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay so after writing this, I realize I lack sufficient knowledge of ABO/Wolf dynamics (even though I'm absolute trash for it) and I somehow combined the two? Hope it makes sense and works ^^; Also I'm imagining this Steve as the teen version of his post-serum self? If that makes sense? Heh.
> 
> This was initially supposed to be a one-shot, friendship slice of life type fic but I can see ways to continue this! 
> 
> To my fellow Americans, have a safe 4th of July AND A SUPER HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO STEVE ROGERS AKA DAD.


End file.
